


Boy Found

by Ill_Ratte



Category: Death Note, Death Note &a Related Fandoms, Death Note: Another Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, More tags to be added as story progresses, Trans Light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 01:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ill_Ratte/pseuds/Ill_Ratte
Summary: The beautiful boy will be B's, whether he likes it or not. After all, B only wants what's best for him...





	Boy Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LOTW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LOTW/gifts).



> I'd like to blame the creation of this story as the reason that LOTW and I are so close

For the past many days, B had waited. Every day, the boy, Tsuki, his little moon, had arrived, at 3 o'clock (give or take a few minutes depending on the weather). Right when his school let out, B had surmised.

The shopping center was a rather quaint place, not the one most teenagers would go to, but then again, from what B had gathered, Tsuki wasn't most teenagers. He was more than that. 

Today, he sat quietly on the bench, lost in thought. 

The bench… something curled in B’s stomach as he mulled over all of the time spent there, watching as Tsuki sat curled up on it, regarding the world around him like a cat ready to flinch at the slightest sound. 

He was adorable, to say the least. So fucking adorable. Like B could just reach out and scoop him up, pet his little head until he calmed in B’s arms. But he couldn't. Not yet. 

When B had first spied Tsuki, he had thought he was seeing an angel. Something as soft as him couldn't be human, couldn't be such a perfectly broken being. But he was. The glowing red Kanji circling his head had ascertained B of that. 

He looked so soft, soft beyond the way a boy his age was supposed to be. His moon hunched in on himself, as if he didn't want to be seen, as if the slightest glance of the world would send him skittering for shelter. B wanted to protect him. 

Tsuki yawned, turning over on his back on the bench. In his hand he held a book, propped close to his face. B grinned, sidling closer. 

Tsuki loved his books; every few days he brought a new one. They ranged from fat volumes on architecture to thin, sleek fantasy novels. And once, with Tsuki’s face burned too red to and him so jumpy that he had stopped reading halfway through, he had brought with him a yoai manga. B regretted not getting close enough to catch the title. 

From B’s hiding place, he could read the spine of Tsuki’s current book. “Poems” read the title. “How succinct.” B muttered. 

As the day wore on, Tsuki grew more and more agitated. With each footstep, he twitched, and at each sound his head craned to look at his surroundings. Finally, Tsuki stood up. 

He stalked down the hallway of the mall, head slumped forward and hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. Defensive in the extreme. B followed eagerly. 

When he made it to a clothes shop, he stopped. Something in Tsuki’s posture changed, his head tilting back further and a small smirk gracing his face. B found he liked it. 

He pushed in, and B dutifully waited outside. He couldn't risk going in and being found out in such close quarters. 

Tsuki came out a few moments later, bag in hand. B watched it sway idly, and followed him back to the bench. 

Tsuki let the bag sit beside him, as if it wasn't his and he was simply holding it for a friend, until the agitation inside of him grew too strong. Tsuki slowly slid the bag to its side, examining the contents. Boxers. A button-down shirt. A belt. B snorted. Hardly something to get so worked up about. 

Tsuki’s head snapped up, eyes wide like a rabbit. B glanced to the side. A large, hiking figure was approaching. “Soichiro Yagami” read the kanji floating above his head. Tsuki’s father. 

B hissed. Tsuki was afraid. His hand strayed to the knife he always kept on him, itching to intervene. But he stayed. 

Soichiro made it to in front of Tsuki. Tsuki still hadn't moved. 

“Just what do you think these are, young lady?” His voice was low and cold. B couldn't see what he held in his hands. 

“That's not- it's not-” Tsuki gulped for air. B could already see tears forming in his eyes. His stomach clenched, and he growled. 

“And what is this?” Soichiro had alighted on the contents of the now-opened bag. His voice dropped lower, gruffer, as he examined the contents, the only word B being to make out was “perverted”. 

A hand shot out to grab Tsuki. “You're coming home. Now.” The tears had fallen. Fear shone in Tsuki’s eyes as he tried to shy away. 

B waited for them to get a few meters ahead before he followed. No matter what, he would keep Tsuki safe.


End file.
